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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIE V 



EVENING 


SONGS 


BY 




VITEZSLAV 


HALEK 


From the Czech Original 


TRANSLATED BY 


DR. JOSEPH 


STYBR 


/^ARTl etV6RITAn£51 


fj^y 




BOSTON 


RICHARD G. 


BADGER 


THE GORHAM 


PRESS 






Copyright, 1920, by Joseph Stybr 



All Rights Reserved 



# 



fPA*fl 



^ 



Made in the United States of America 



The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 



JUN 19 1320 



Q- 



A571360 



INTRODUCTION 

Vitezslav Halek, whose little volume of verses 
is herewith presented to the reader in English 
translation,' belonged to the romantic and lyric 
school of Czech poesy during the second half of the 
last century. He was born in 1835 and died in 
1874. From his first appearance in literature in 
1858 he held his nation at attention and enjoyed 
its admiration and love for twenty years. During 
that time he produced a line of works touching upon 
nearly all classes of writing; however, the lyric 
string of his lyre proved to be the most charming 
one, and this little volume of Evening Songs proved 
to be his culminating point. As an expression of 
fragrant effusions of feeling it always appealed to 
the tenderness of youthful hearts and was eagerly 
sought and read, so that the book in the original 
appeared in many editions. 

Should the little volume bring real pleasure to 
the reader and induce others to open wider the 
doors to the rich and charming Czech literature 
for the readers in English, the effort of the trans- 
lator would be well rewarded. 

The Translator. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

as in the sky rises the moon 53 

At prophets cast ye never stones 71 

Blest is the man whom the Lord's hand . . . 67 

Day and night went each their way, The ... 55 

Deep silence reigns — -it seems to me 48 

Don't wonder, shouldst Thou chance to hear . 58 

From heaven angels come to earth 72 

God summoned me to paradise 17 

God's world is so far and wide, The .... 59 

Greatest hero is not he, The . 32 

Heavens are replete with stars, The .... 33 

He's going far from home 75 

He who can strike the golden strings .... 70 

Hey, in the rounds what pleasure 60 

Humming of the trees has ceased, The .... 13 

i am a linden with large crown 21 

i am the knight from the old tale ..... 12 

i bade the trumpets to be blown 69 

i do not know, was it a dream? 45 

i thought to myself, with no love 50 

if all the world lost its delight 37 

5 



Contents 



If that poor nightingale .... 

In the sky the moon was standing 

It happened. My soul minus Thee 

It seemed to me — Grief had grown old 

Moon sails slowly in the sky, The . 

Much has been trusted to Thy hands 

My God, of all things I aspire 

My lips were lockt a long, long time 

My pillow was of sorrow made 

My sweetheart, come, kneel down with me 

My sweetheart, come, sit close to me 

My sweetheart, I dreamt Thou hadst died 

My sweetheart, look at those two clouds 

Night is fair and transparent, The 

now go, my darling children, go . 

Of MY SONGS I SHALL BUILD THY THRONE 

Once as I through the golden stars 
Scorching heat of noonday sun, The 
Should I tell Thee the secret tale 
so many, many things there are . 
so often it appears to me . . . 
Spring came flying from afar, The 
Stars upon the heavens there, The 
Stars by the hundreds dot the sky 
Tell wherein thou hast sinned, my heart 
That deep and dark blue heaven's bowl 



PAGE 

18 

74 
26 

49 
76 
68 
66 
64 
62 
20 
29 
39 
77 
43 
73 
57 
30 
35 
19 
4i 
22 
11 
3i 
IS 
36 
46 



Contents 



That little bird sings all the time . 

That nightingale has not retired 

That young little singer there . . 

There were two thoughts, two thoughts of God 

Those stars, those fair wee little stars 

Thou art still but a youthful bud . 

Thou hast laid Thy hand on my head 

Thou maiden, charming most of all 

Though all the world has gone to sleep 

Thy beautiful eye is a lake . . . 

'Tis wrong for men to lack in song . 

Up in the oak tree a dove wailed 

Upon the sky the moon and stars 

What charm is there in love for us . 

What matters it what in sweet songs 

When God felt His supreme delight . 

When I gaze at Thee, darling mine . 

When I shall trust my corpse to earth 

Ye all who deem yourselves oppressed 

Ye little, ye wee little stars . . . 



PAGE 

47 
24 

52 

Si 

44 
23 
56 

25 

14 

28 

63 

42 

34 
16 
38 
40 
27 
65 
54 
61 



EVENING SONGS 



EVENING SONGS 



The spring came flying from afar; 
With fresh desires all's teeming; 
All things pressed forward to the sun — 
So long all had been dreaming! 

The finches flew out of their nest 
And children from their bowers, 
And on the meadows sweetest scents 
Breathe countless little flowers. 

Young leaves press their way from the twigs 
And from birds' throats their voices, 
And in the heart with budding love 
The youthful breast rejoices. 



Evening Songs 



II 



I am the knight from the old tale 
Who proudly to the far world rode 
To see the lass who's like a rose 
And to discover her abode. 

Who would behold her — said her fame — 
Would by a ban at once be struck; 
His heart would be rent from his breast, 
Or he would change to be a rock. 

Thought I to myself, possibly 
For clemency there might be room. 
I ventured out and for my sin — 
Became a bard by rigid doom. 



Evening Songs 



III 

The humming of the trees has ceased, 
Their leaves breathe calmly, neatly; 
The bird is dreaming its fair dream 
So quietly, so sweetly. 

The heavens' stars have all come out, 
All things rest in calm gladness, 
But in the breast the sorrow wakes 
And in the heart the sadness. 

The fragrant blossom's pretty cup 
Receives dew in its centre — 
My God, and I, too, feel that dew 
In mine eyes gently enter. 



Evening Songs 



IV 



Though all the world has gone to sleep, 
The heart wakes in the body, 
And God himself knows that the heart 
Ne'er sleeps for anybody. 

The whole God's world is silence-bound, 
The heart still goes, well rated, 
And God himself knows that the heart 
Gets never fatigated. 

Sleep is the conqueror of thought, 
Night is day's alternation — 
But in the breast the heart e'er wakes 
And guards its love's sweet passion. 



Evening Songs 



Stars by the hundreds dot the sky 
With sister Moon at leisure, 
And God and angels view the world 
From heaven's height with pleasure. 

A smiling angel's coming down 
To earth as heaven's vision — 
Fair as the fragrant breath of spring, 
And love is his sweet mission. 

Wherever he just passes by 
All's stricken with sweet passion, 
And nightingales and fair white doves 
All sing with animation. 

And he whom his white wing does touch 
Is transformed all over, 
And something sweet enters his breast 
That human words can't cover. 



15 



Evening Songs 



VI 

What charm is there in love for us, 
My God, and why we love it? 
The world would all dissolve in it 
And lives all in love of it. 

The little cloud sails through the sky 
As though love's message drove it ; 
The little bird that sleeps in twigs 
Is dreaming only of it. 

And here, too, on the earth the man, 
While death his head does covet, 
He weeps, rejoices, longs and lives 
And dies for the sake of it. 

Indeed, the heaven's angel choir 
With their harps' music prove it — 
What would they sing, if not allowed 
To play and to sing of it ! 



Evening Songs 



VII 

God summoned me to Paradise 
To get me educated. 
" 'Tis hard for me to be alone!" 
The Lord then Eve created. 

He took not one rib from my breast, 
My heart in half he parted. 
That is why my heart still tends back 
From where Thine once had started. 

And that is why such strange desires 
So oft in my heart gather, 
And I feel as though both our hearts 
Should grow again together. 

And that is why when I'm away 
Pain to my heart is creeping, 
My foot does of itself turn back, 
And I am sad — to weeping. 



Evening Songs 



VIII 

If that poor nightingale 
Lived always with her mate, 
Her love songs would not sound 
So sad and desolate. 

If that poor heart but would 
With Thee wake through the night, 
Instead of pain it would 
Resound with sweet delight. 



18 



Evening Songs 



IX 



Should I tell Thee the secret tale 

As nightingale in the oak forest — 

Or should I weep in bitter tears 

What sways my heart and gives it no rest ? 

Or, kneeling down, with ardent words 
Should I in prayer spell my passion — 
Or in a fair and tranquil night 
Out of my dream breathe my confession? 

Or should the hidden paradise 
Sleep in my heart's depth, never uttered, 
Like in a grave, and far from Thee 
My love in secret be but muttered? 

O angel mine, I do confess 
My love for mankind, never dying; 
But toward Thee — O, don't chide me, 
That my mind's weak and undefying! ~~~ 



Evening Songs 



X 



My sweetheart, come, kneel down with me, 
Now is the time for us to pray — 
The moon has risen o'er the woods, 
And my time has just passed away. 

But, darling, do not clasp Thy hands; 
Embrace me as I Thee with mine — 
And thus, instead of clasping hands, 
Two hearts will in one prayer join. 

Thy lips then press Thou close to mine ; 
From one mouth let the prayer rise — 
Let me the words press on .Thy lips, 
And Thou send them to Paradise. 

Our prayer shall be strong, indeed, 
Our offer purest in that case — 
For angels, too, when they do pray, 
Are praying just in such embrace. 



Evening Songs 



XI 

I am a linden with large crown, 
In style dressed in the meadow: 
Thou beautiful, sweet rose of May, 
Come to my cooling shadow. 

Here each green leaf does odor breathe 
And swarms of bees are humming, 
And, nightly, little birds arrive — 
Those are my thoughts, home coming. 

They fly far-off as children do 
From home until they hunger, 
But, with Thee seated close to me, 
They will depart no longer. 



Evening Songs 



XII 

So often it appears to me, 
As I embrace and love Thee, 
That Thou art for me in the world 
And I for the sake of Thee. 

'Tis difficult through life to pass 
Avoiding all deflection ; 
But to give others happiness 
Is greatest satisfaction. 

And if the king enjoys his crown 
And God has heaven's Eden 
And birds have forest in the spring, 
I do have Thee, my maiden. 



22 



Evening Songs 



XIII 

Thou art still but a youthful bud 
Just into the world looming, 
And yet upon Thy cheek appears 
A beautiful rose blooming. 

And it is such a dainty rose 
And such a fragrant blossom 
That soon a fire burns in the soul 
And yearning in the bosom. 



23 



Evening Songs 



XIV 

That nightingale has not retired 
And she's with song all ringing; 
That song of love, so long, my God, 



From one twig to another twig, 
From upper to the nether — 
And I believe that the same plight 
In hearts we bear together. 

And turning up her serene eye 
She looks in each direction — 
And I believe that I could guess 
What is her eyes' attraction. 



24 



Evening Songs 



XV 

Thou maiden, charming most of all, 
O Thou, world's greatest treasure, 
In Thee I found my sweet delight, 
Thou art my cherished pleasure. 

Thou art as pure as morning drops 
That come from heaven's dewing 
And graceful as the turtle dove 
When she her song is cooing. 

Thou art fair as the lily white 
That in sweet odor guises 
And noble as the morning star — 
The day dawns as she rises. 



25 



Evening Songs 



XVI 

It happened. My soul minus Thee 
No longer feels itself as whole; 
To think myself without Thee once 
Would be as to have lost my soul. 

Yes, Thou art woven in my soul 
Thou art her pride and her delight — 
Thou art my solace, my desire, 
My happiness — my pain and plight. 

From joyless days Thou heaven weav'st 
As does the bride her wedding dress; 
In me Thou wak'st, in me Thou dream'st; 
What I'm, what Thou, is hard to guess. 

It matters not what my fate be — 
For I know well its weaving hand. 
And should Thy hand destruction bring, 
On that, too, heaven might depend. 



26 



Evening Songs 



XVII 

When I gaze at Thee, darling mine — 
Thou art a dove — though sweeter — 
Delightful, playful, gentle, tame, 
When her mate comes to meet her. 

And I can scarcely gaze enough 
At Thine eyes and cheeks' blossom — 
Thine eyes are but two dark blue gates 
To Thy deep charming bosom. 

And I can scarcely gaze enough 
At Thy sweet face reflection — 
Through it Thy whole heart speaks to me 
And soul without deception. 

When I gaze at Thee, darling mine — 
O manna's sweet dispenser! — 
Are not those the same lips, indeed, 
That gave me "yes" for answer? 



27 



Evening Songs 



XVIII 

Thy beautiful eye is a lake 
In darkness gently waving; 
In it the bright lights of the night 
And heavens' blue are laving. 

And as pure crystal it is clear, 
One sees the bottom in it — 
But who attempts to look in deep 
Will shortly be drowned in it. 



28 



Evening Songs 



XIX 

My sweetheart, come, sit close to me, 
Allow me to embrace Thee; 
The Lord gave Thee an angel's soul 
From heaven, just to grace Thee. 

I feel that I should speak to Thee 
And make confessions often, 
But my words stay locked in my mouth 
And dead as in a coffin. 

And often what I'd like to say 
Appears unutterable, 
For, though the soul is filled with it, 
The tongue to speak's unable. 

But as I wind my arm 'round Thee 
And my soul in Thine enters, 
I feel as though Thou knowest all 
What on my tongue then centres. 



29 



Evening Songs 



XX 

Once as I through the golden stars 
Up heavenward was gazing, 
It seemed to me Thou wert a saint 
And I an angel blazing. 

Then I a harp took to my hand 
And songs to Thee I chanted 
Until the saints' songs died away 
And all eyes to us slanted. 

And God the Father for a while 
Himself ceased in creation. 
And down His cheek there seemed to roll 
A diamond of compassion. 



30 



Evening Songs 



XXI 

The stars upon the heavens there 
Are worlds of greatest features, 
And I would only like to know 
What kind they have of creatures. 

If some one from that height up there 
At us 'way down here gazes, 
And if he up there like I here 
His voice in love songs raises. 



Evening Songs 



XXII 

The greatest hero is not he 
For blows with blows who's paying, 
But he who, hundred times betrayed, 
Himself knows no betraying. 

Who after love can send a curse 
He never felt love's passion, 
For love is able to forgive 
And knows no condemnation. 

Who will not bring a sacrifice 

To him no love be proffered ; 

Bad is the priest who thinks he's more 

Than that what he has offered. 

And should e'er love demand of me 
My life and share in heaven — 
I would go as the lamb for Thee 
To whom my love I've given. 



32 



Evening Songs 



XXIII 

The heavens are replete with stars 
As spring time is with daisies; 
Thus everything in God's great world 
For love has its own praises. 

The violet's replete with scent 
And dew in little blossom, 
And that dear nightingale sings love 
From overflowing bosom. 

The heavens are replete with stars, 
With blazing lights all sweeping, 
And here on earth the living men 
Are singing and are weeping. 



33 



Evening Songs 



XXIV 

Upon the sky the moon and stars, 
The forest full of voices, 
And God spreads only love around 
In which the world rejoices. 

The murmurs in young foliage 
Change to low sweet narration; 
The world is gay and jubilant 
And melts in osculation. 

And yet I know that somewhere grief 
Some youthful heart oppresses, 
And that a secret bitter tear 
Some young pale cheek caresses. 



34 






Evening Songs 



XXV 

The scorching heat of noonday sun 
Is my love's blazing passion; 
The night — fair shadow of the day — 
Thy love's sweet moderation. 

Thou hast set fire within my breast, 
Earth's centre's heat assuming, 
But that fire, unnursed by Thy love, 
Will die, itself consuming. 

I dreamt of banquets with Thy love 
And have but crumbs collected; 
What wonder, then, if only grief 
Is in my face reflected. 

The heart, indeed, can suffer much, 
Oppressed by love's great hunger, 
And whether I am day or night 
I now can guess no longer. 

'Tis written thus. The day and night 
Proceed, each other missing — 
But as the evening's dusk arrives, 
They meet, each other kissing. 



35 



Evening Songs 



XXVI 

Tell wherein thou hast sinned, my heart; 
My God, such tribulation! 
That what forever should be joined 
Must live in separation. 

How beautiful the life would be 
In love without distressing! 
But to forever yearn and live — 
Where is therein a blessing? 



36 



Evening Songs 



XXVII 

If all the world lost its delight 
And had no other pleasure 
And love alone was left behind — 
The life would have its treasure. 

And if all other things were truth 
And love but dreams' delusion — 
I would be ready to lie down 
And sleep to life's conclusion. 

And if till now I've only dreamt— 
My dreams had their sweet flavor, 
And who sang me my lullabies 
I shan't forget forever. 



37 



Evening Songs 



XXVIII 

What matters it what in sweet songs 
The nightingale is telling, 
Since my own heart has left its place 
And now with Thee 'tis dwelling. 

And if her call rang e'er so sweet 
And into mine ears chanted : 
What matters it, since in my heart 
And soul now Thou art planted ! 

And there Thou art, so charmful, 
Beyond imagination, 
That I'd give the sky's stars, my soul, 
To Thee in admiration. 



38 



Evening Songs 



XXIX 

My sweetheart, I dreamt Thou hadst died 
I heard the death-knells pealing, 
And there were tears and wails and cries 
And signs of saddest feeling. 

For the low mound o'er Thy strange bed 
They picked a tombstone blindly, 
And a verse for Thine epitaph 
To write they asked me kindly. 

Oh, folks ! Oh, folks ! yourselves of stones, 
My heart take, with grief raving, 
And what I have not sung before 
Use for the stone's engraving! 

You trusted not in my pure love 
And scorned my word and letter — 
Now if the stone will speak to you, 
You'll understand it better. 



39 



Evening Songs 



XXX 

When God felt His supreme delight, 
The human heart He molded 
And for eternal memory 
His love in it He folded. 

And as He gazed upon the heart 
With eyes divine, forseeing, 
He wept, for He was overjoyed 
To see the blissful being. 

But as He wept, one of His tears, 
Unnoticed, the heart entered, 
As dew falls in a flower cup, 
And near the bottom centered. 

That is why love is a great grief, 
But grief so sweet and charming 
That pitied must be all the hearts 
That have escaped its harming. 

That is why love is half of bliss 
And half of grief a token, 
But if the tear swells to a wave, 
Then some heart may be broken. 



40 



Evening Songs 



XXXI 

So many, many things there are 
To which the keys are lacking; 
Deep silence answers all man's knocks 
And foils his undertaking. 

Thou human heart ! There sorrows howl 
As wolves, by hunger driven, 
And yet that same heart, oh, my God ! 
To love alone is given. 

'Tis capable of so much love 
That man's wit may be failing, 
And he may as the lonely dove 
In vain roam, ever wailing. 



4i 



Evening Songs 



XXXII 

Up in the oak tree a dove wailed — 
Below, a brooklet muttered — 
Don't wonder, when I was to speak, 
That not a word I uttered. 

Can he speak from all his soul's depth 
Who does in strange lands wander? 
And man's too human that he should 
At paradise not wonder. 



42 



Eveninff Songs 



XXXIII 

The night is fair and transparent — 
One sees the heaven's sainted; 
The song, the odor, and the buzz 
Hold the whole heart enchanted. 

O pity, Thou art not with me, 
To hear with me and wonder 
How everything here tells its tale 
To the clear heavens yonder. 

How the whole world is but one song 
The universe pervading, 
And that from human hearts but comes 
An echo, faint and fading. 



43 



Evening Songs 



XXXIV 

Those stars, those fair wee little stars, 
The heavens' blue dome lighting, 
They look to me down with sweet eyes, 
Me up to them inviting. 

Oh no ! ye fair wee little stars ; 
You love that wheel of heaven, 
While I prefer to stay down here 
Where I find all I've craven. 

You don't know, fair wee little stars, 
And think not what you're missing; 
We have here heaven on the earth 
In sweet, delightful kissing. 



44 



Evening Songs 



XXXV 

I do not know, was it a dream? 
But in my mind it lingers — 
I saw and read the nations' fates, 
Decreed by God's own fingers. 

Thoughts, earnest as was God himself, 
Passed through His great head, thronging 
And beautiful as nights of spring 
For a sweet body longing. 

Some thought — great as the universe, 
Some — music sounding gently, 
Some — future human history, 
By human eyes seen faintly. 

There, too, I met with my own love 
And with Thy heart, ne'er failing, 
That love of ours appeared there 
As two small bright clouds sailing. 

And God, observing our sweet love, 
Himself with grace relented, 
And throngs of young angels their hymns 
Before Him on it chanted. 



45 



Evening Songs 



XXXVI 

That deep and dark blue heavens' bowl- 
And stars as golden blossoms; 
As man looks at them from the earth, 
His heart strange feelings bosoms. 

And all the time more and more stars 
Appear without a bound there — 
And yet not ev'ry little star 
Can easily be found there. 

But whene'er in two youthful hearts 
First breath of love does enter, 
A new star is said to appear 
In heavens' dark blue center. 

And if in one of the two hearts 
Love's blossoms starts to wither, 
Then from the dark blue heavens' bow] 
One golden star drops hither. 



46 



ys 



XXXVII 

That little bird sings all the time 
As one song with life ringing; 
So wonder not, if one does love, 
That he'll pass life in singing. 

And that bird speaks from heart to heart, 
And it knows how, directly, . 
So that man hardly keeps back tears, 
If he knows hearts perfectly. 

Yes, often it appears to me 
That I am as its fellow, 
For my songs, too, can move to tears, 
So soft they are, and mellow. 



47 



Evening Songs 



XXXVIII 

Deep silence reigns — it seems to me 
Sleep comes to mine eyes, resting, 
As does a bird come to its mate 
In their home softly nesting. 

The night's soft bed is ready made — 
The heavens, with stars covered. 
Maybe that some heart will forget 
For what this day it suffered. 

Maybe that some heart will forget, 
And if it found no treasure, 
Maybe it finds it in its dream 
And with it finds its pleasure. 



48 



Evening Songs 



XXXIX 



It seemed to me — Grief had grown old, 
Soon would come its last countin', 
And tears — so many had been shed 
That dry must be their fountaii 



tain. 



Then suddenly I thought of Thee, 
And soon my whole soul shivered, 
And as though I should lose Thee soon 
An echo in it quivered. 

And mine eyes promptly filled with tears, 
My joy to grief is bending, 
And I am finding out with pain 
That tears shall have no ending. 



49 



Evening Songs 



XL 

I thought to myself, with no love 
How'd look that world of ours : 
It would be as a dreary waste 
Without a trace of flowers. 

The heart would wander through that waste 

And always on grief border, 

It would be sad as the world was 

Ere God to light gave order. 

It would be so sad that on earth 
Man would not like the livin', 
And God the Father would not like 
To stay as God in heaven. 



50 



Evening Songs 



XLI 

There were two thoughts, two thoughts of 

God, 
Two stars beside each other, 
And from all of the heavens' stars 
They most loved one another. 

Once one of them fell to the earth — 
The other pined in sorrow, 
And God, touched by her grief and love, 
Sent her down on the morrow. 

They sought each other many nights 
As lonely souls their Eden, 
Until one day they chanced to meet 
As a young man and maiden. 

Their eyes met, and they recognized 
Each other, tender-hearted, 
And lived together in great bliss 
Till one of them departed. 

And when she died, she always called 
And languished for the other, 
Till God summoned the other one, 
And they're again together. 



5i 



Evening Songs 



XLII 

That young little singer there — 
Why did she cease her narration? 
Her eyes quickly filled with tears 
As though grieved in separation. 

Some one may think to himself, 
God, how can her young soul darken? 
Her face young and beautiful, 
And her song so sweet to hearken. 

Ah, a beautiful young face 
May not do in solace bringing; 
And though sweet the song may be — 
You don't always feel like singing. 



52 



Evening Songs 



XLIII 

As in the sky rises the moon — 
So into hearts love enters; 
And secret pain and silent grief 
Around it often centers. 

And visions man had not thought of 
He may see, dimly lighted, 
And secret pain and silent grief 
May be in song united. 

But gales and tempests violent 
In many hearts are waking, 
And ere in song they utter them — 
How many hearts are breaking! 



53 



Evening Songs 



XLIV 

Ye all who deem yourselves oppressed, 
Come near, come nearer to me: 
Lay off your sorrows' burdens here 
And light up your minds gloomy. 

I've reared here a vast realm of love 
Where mate seeks his mate pretty, 
And what one harbors in his heart 
Resounds in love's sweet ditty. 

No rival here, no hater's known, 
Here speech is love song, wooing; 
Here lions turn to calm, meek lambs 
And hawks to doves, sweet, cooing. 

Here are all ailments' remedies; 
Here hearts are ever youthful; 
Here never fades the blooming rose, 
And friendship's ever truthful. 



54 



Evening S 



XLV 

The day and night went each their way- 
The day, as Judas, traitor, 
The night, so fair, so beautiful, 
That none can ever hate her. 

The little stars shine in the sky, 
The moon comes with her pallor, 
And in the forest chats the dove, 
The fair and tender caller. 

The heart confesses to the heart 
With thoughts in distance sailing, 
And longing lips thirst for a kiss, 
From burning passion thrilling. 



55 



Evening Songs 



XLVI 

Thou hast laid Thy hand on my head, 
My temples proud caressing; 
Thy lips have whispered their sweet words 
In prayer and in blessing. 

Thou hast revealed Thy soul to me 
In Thy love's fragrant blossom, 
And what I had not dared to dream — 
Thou took'st me to Thy bosom. 

With blessing Thou hast graced my harp, 
My heart and my lips' diction; 
To pious battles Thou hast sent 
My songs with benediction. 

My forehead is from sadness freed, 
Fears are a thing I scoff at, 
My soul is filled with dawning light — 
And I am love's great prophet. 



56 



Evening Songs 



XLVII 

Of my songs I shall build Thy throne 
In style of bards of greatest fame. 
Thy sceptre shall be my own heart, 
My fame shall be Thy diadem. 

Love I shall declare to be law, 
I shall sing daily Thine esteem ; 
In Thy soul I'll pour love's delight 
And sweetest longing in Thy dream. 

I shall bid birds to sing to Thee, 
May's flowers shall fall to Thy feet; 
I'll change to heaven the world and all 
And there command the stars to meet. 

I'll make your subjects all men's hearts, 
Revive the Eden with my verse, 
Proclaim Thee high queen of it all 
Throughout the whole of universe. 



57 



Evening Songs 



XLVIII 

Don't wonder, shouldst Thou chance to hear 
Birds sing of Thy love's wooing; 
They called once at my window sill 
To see what I was doing. 

And they again came and again 
And soon taught me to love them, 
For I am free just as they are 
And am just like one of them. 

I sang them many songs of Thee 
That in sweet love abounded, 
And they soon tuned their throats to them 
Till in their songs love sounded. 

The other day I called on them 
In their woods and nooks shady 
And was surprised to find the birds 
To sing my songs already. 



58 



Evening Songs 



XLIX 

The God's world is so far and wide 
And goodness in small measure; 
By thousands one can count the pains 
And very little pleasure. 

The heart is ready to redeem 
With hundred pains one pleasure — 
And the same heart, O God, for love 
Will suffer past all measure. 



59 



Evening Songs 



Hey, in the rounds what pleasure 
While one his lass embraces! 
Let's have the charming music — 
Come, pale lad, join our races! 

Ah, the pale lad's whole body 
As though with cold frost shivered, 
And down his pale cheeks quickly 
A stream of hot tears quivered. 



60 



Evening Songs 



LI 

Ye little, ye wee little birds, 
Ye song-dreamers in sleeping; 
Does anyone of you there know 
That I die here from weeping? 

Dear moon, stop moving in the sky 
Till I some solace gather; 
My love's fire's extinct as art thou — 
We both fit well together. 

The last flame flickers to die out, 
All that's left are words hollow; 
Yet I would blow all to new life, 
Though nought but grief should follow. 



61 



Evening Songs 



LII 

My pillow was of sorrow made 
My sleep were tears, free flowing; 
Go easy, my heart — not so loud: 
Deep penitence I'm showing. 

The moon comes by the window in, 
Gown'd in her deathly pallor, 
And in the heart a song died down 
As of a bird, sad caller. 

Dear moon, light up the stars on high 
Let dew descend on flowers; 
Awake from sleep the nightingale, 
But men — let sleep their hours! 

You carry off the gorgeous love — 
You know the calamity; 
I am now but a wretched man — 
Ah, pity, pity, pity! 



62 



Evening Songs 



LIII 

" 'Tis wrong for men to lack in song — " 
In judgment God has spoken — 
And then He sent a bard to men 
And gave him this as token: 

"Throughout thy life have thou no rest, 
Thy bread with tears be eaten ; 
Know thou nought but hard suffering, 
In all hopes be thou beaten ! 

"Though thy heart be rent to its blood — 
View that blood to them clinging; 
Though driven by them through all lands- 
Love them — and keep on singing!" 

That lot is common to us bards. 

Men may have our songs chanted, 

But with what had brought on our song — 

None cares to get acquainted. 



63 



Evening Songs 



LIV 

My lips were lockt a long, long time, 
And mute as rocks are lonely, 
But suddenly they were unlockt 
By Thee with one kiss only. 

That kiss fell as in month of May 
On parched earth falls a shower; 
Now songs began to sprout again 
In my soul with fresh power. 



64 



Evening Songs 



LV 

When I shall trust my corpse to earth 
And my soul to God's keeping, 
I ask to be laid as a bard 
Away to my last sleeping. 

Into my hand I want the lyre, 
On head, leaves from laure's arbor; 
Let my new neighbors know at once 
Who comes to their calm harbor. 

I always holy held the lyre 
And not a mere toy only: 
So let it be mine ornament 
In night long and place lonely. 

Should we feel lonesome in the graves 
And, maybe, for home too sick, 
Then I shall sing a song for them 
And cheer them up with music. 

And should in your lives sluggishness 
And sleep here overtake you: 
I'll rouse the dead and send them back, 
And they shall come and wake you. 



65 



Evening Songs 



LVI 

My God, of all things I aspire 
I here confess, whole-hearted; 
All I pray for is that from song 
I never shall be parted. 

Shouldst Thou withdraw my gift of song- 
I ask to live no longer; 
Shouldst Thou for song bid me take bliss- 
I still to song cling stronger. 



66 



Evening Songs 



LVII 

Blest is the man whom the Lord's hand 
As bard had consecrated ; 
He has looked into God's decrees 
And has men's breasts well rated. 

He knows what says the world's great psalm 
And what the birds are singing; 
He understands the throbbing heart, 
In tears, and with joy ringing. 

What secret is to other men 
Is open to his vision; 
He is the leader of God's race 
To its long promised region. 

He is the king of kingdoms vast, 
The priest of men's salvation, 
And beauties' treasures lie in him 
Beyond all estimation. 



67 



Evening Songs 



LVIII 

Much has been trusted to Thy hands; 
My heart in them I planted, 
And God placed sweet songs in that heart 
To have men's bliss augmented. 

A strange plant is the human heart — 
Not easily to nourish; 
For, it is up to love alone, 
If it shall die or flourish. 

A strange plant is the human heart — 
It needs the climate's favor 
And dew and rain and best of care 
To yield fruit of good flavor. 

So should my heart from Thy hands sprout 

In honor of the nation, 

Long ages that are yet to come 

Shall sing Thine adoration. 



68 



Evening Songs 



LIX 

I bade the trumpets to be blown 
For glorious resurrection; 
I shall in final judgment sit — 
Ye shall hear your fates' lection. 

Ye who have been opposed to love 
And have against it spoken : 
Ye shall despair for all the time, 
And your hearts shall be broken. 

But ye who always have kept faith 
And treated love with favor: 
Ye come and gather on my right 
And live in love forever. 

To you in heaven special place 
And special bliss be given, 
For, having loved upon the earth, 
You had the taste of heaven. 



69 



Evening Songs 



LX 

He who can strike the golden strings 
Be highest honors given, 
For God has shewn you such great love 
That He sent him from heaven. 

It's dreadful when with barren fields 
And plague God means to punish, 
But greatest scorge visits the race 
From whom its songs do vanish. 

That nation has not perished yet 
To whom its bards are singing: 
For all song is of heaven's birth 
And life in death 'tis bringing. 



70 



Evening Songs 



LXI 

At prophets cast ye never stones; 
They are as birds, shy, clever: 
Cast thou a stone at him but once, 
And he is gone forever. 

God's fearful wrath the nation seeks 
Whose love of bards is shaken, 
And greatest wrath befell the race 
From whom God songs has taken. 

The poet's heart is pure and chaste, 
His faith does never vary; 
Therefore, what he sings from his heart 
That ye in your hearts carry! 



7i 



Evening Songs 



LXII 

From heaven angels come to earth — 
Dreams with their golden visions, 
And each of them brings men in sleep 
Delight from happy regions. 

Wherever these fair angels stop, 
Men learn all they had craven; 
For they know and tell them in dreams 
Fair tales direct from heaven. 

The eyelids suddenly get sealed — 
With sweetness of sleep laden: 
Thine image stands in front of me — 
Good night, good night — my maiden ! 



72 



Evening Songs 



LXIII 

Now go, my darling children, go— 
This is no more your station; 
Accept for your quaint journey yet 
Your father's osculation ! 

May be, somewhere they'll honor you 
And offer you receptions; 
But somewhere they may criticise — 
Be ready for exceptions! 

But let your mind not be disturbed 
Nor wrinkles in face driven: 
All kinds of men live in the world, 
But few to love are given. 



73 



Evening Songs 



LXIV 

In the sky the moon was standing; 
Dreams to me new songs were lending. 

Birds came and told one another 
How much we did love each other. 

That the fair fresh meadow flowers 
Would be wedding gowns of ours. 

That green ivy with her story 

Would wreathe Thy head with its glory. 

Adorned with thousand charms, 
That Thou wouldst rest in my arms. 



74 



Evening Songs 



LXV 

He's going far from home, 
With sorrow laden; 
He turns yet and looks back — 
Good-bye, dear maiden ! 

He turns yet and looks back, 
His kerchief waving; 
With kerchief he dries yet 
Eyes in tears laving. 

And now behind him closed 
A foreign region 
As in the sky the lark 
Gets lost to vision. 

He's gone, but he'll come back 
Again, joy-laden — 
But ere he will return — 
Good-bye, dear maiden! 



75 



Evening Songs 



LXVI 

(Posthumous) 

The moon sails slowly in the sky 
So calmly and so freely; 
The nightingale wails in the twigs 
So sweetly and so really. 

Thy image stands in front of me 
So calmly and so freely; 
The heart in longing wakes and calls 
So sweetly and so really. 

A swarm of songs is circling 'round 
So calmly and so freely; 
And into mine eye steals a tear 
So sweetly and so really. 

Now gentle sleep knocks at my door 
So calmly and so freely — 
And I recall Thee to my mind 
So sweetly and so really. 



76 



Evening Songs 



LXVII 

(Posthumous) 

My sweetheart, look at those two clouds 
Above that mountain yonder — 
The moon sheds her light on their way, 
And in close touch they wander. 

The maiden choir of quiet stars 
Is twinkling to them greeting, 
And gentle zephyrs in their breath 
Bring odors to them, fleeting. 

Lo ! from the shrubs the nightingale 
Flew up with her narration — 
Hark how she sends her song to them 
As song's true incarnation! 

My love, look from Thy window there 
How those clouds float together — 
I asked them to bid Thee "good night," 
Sweet dreams 'round Thee to gather. 



77 



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